You were pure and I bemoiled!
That you loathed me, it was just;
Weak of soul and left of lust
Vulgar, low, and soiled....
Closed—the eyes once filled with dreams!
Great, proud eyes!... I see them yet,
Miniature nights of lucid jet
Filled with starry gleams.
Sealed—the lips; poor, faded lips!
Once as red as life could make—